It's just poetry, it won't bite

Sour Patch Kid


01.14.18 Posted in today's words by

Maalik Howard’s most recent poem to appear here was “Nina” (December 2017)

Sour Patch Kid
By Maalik Howard

First she’s sour then she’s sweet like a sour patch kid.
Her sour is a pinch from a middle school crush.
The tiny prick of pain is submerged by the joyous sentiment of her attention greeting you,
Where you unwillingly elude to a modest grin a familiarity

Her sour is a gunshot,
A subtle bullet that pierces the chest
Permeating crater lake wounds.
Your persona must wear a bulletproof vest to withstand

Her sweet?
Her sweet is undeniable without a spoken word.
Her sweet falls root into her eyes,
She works them.
Spellbinding, these eyes cast you into stone as curtains begin to descend around the entire room with the works of an invisibility cloak,
When you stare into them, that cliched moment of you and I profoundly exist

Her sweet is manifest,
It’s like an eternal first hug back from months of absence,
It squeezes you securely with an elated feeling of of homeliness,
A gasping sigh of relief.
Fortuitous, her sweet will battle your emotional guard to its defeat leaving with you moments questioning What in the world did I just do?

Her sour and her sweet,
Fire and blissful ice,
Fused into a single body,
Perfectly flawed.
She can construct a poet out of thin air.



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